


Protection

by die_traumerei



Series: Castle Terra [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caretaking, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/F, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Revenge, Trans Female Character, Trans!Crowley, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25752832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Two stories, of Aziraphale and Crowley protecting each other. See chapter notes for specific warnings.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Castle Terra [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801759
Comments: 19
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter-specific trigger warnings:
> 
> Chapter one: a minor character is explicitly transphobic about Crowley to Aziraphale, including deadnaming her. Crowley overhears, and is upset but not terribly surprised. Aziraphale is immediately supportive, and her revenge is swift and effective; she continually loves and supports Crowley.
> 
> Chapter two: Aziraphale and Crowley unexpectedly meet someone from Heaven's Court. She's rude and cruel, and Crowley protects Aziraphale as best she can. Aziraphale has a panic attack, but Crowley (and Asha) help her to safety, and offer comfort and protection.

“That's him,” Aziraphale whispered softly as she and Crowley entered the parlour. Well, 'parlour'; it easily held a few dozen people, but then everything in Castle Terra seemed oversized. It was nice, if a bit nippy in winter.

It was a gorgeous autumn evening, though, and she was swathed in white silk, and so was happy, not least because of the woman at her side, her lover for nearly two years now. She smiled at Crowley, and warmed deep in her belly when Crowley smiled back and squeezed her hand.

“Go say hello, Maestra, he's here for you,” she teased.

“He's here for _your_ books,” Aziraphale said, rolling her eyes.

“Your books,” Crowley parried.

“ _Our_ books,” she said, exasperated already by her demoness, even more so when Crowley snickered. “And I will, thank you kindly.” She squeezed Crowley's hand, plunged into the crowd, and eventually crossed the fine carpet to greet the visiting scholar. A giant in his field; for _her_ Library to feature in his research was quite a feather in her cap.

“Maestra,” he said, bowing to her, and she curtsied back nicely.

“Maestro Scholar,” Aziraphale greeted him, bowing her head, her fillet dark against the silver-blonde. “Welcome to Terra, we're honoured by your presence.”

“Oh, now, hardly,” he said cheerfully. “I'm honoured by yours. I'm _terribly_ excited to start digging into some of your 9th-century sources, you know.”

“Already laid out for you,” she promised, and smiled. “I've admired your work for some time, I have to say. I think you'll find some interesting things in the records of land use, especially grazing. Terra has a long history in the wool trade, of course.”

“Indeed – I'm curious when large flock management begins to appear...”

And thus they lost themselves in talk of old, old history, so old that Aziraphale's Library held a good portion of the very few known written records. She was a proud dragon with quite a hoard to her name, and the publication of his scholarship would help  _her_ make a name for herself, and for Castle Terra's holdings.

“Oh goodness, I hope I'm not taking all of your attention,” she said, realising she'd utterly monopolised him. 

“Not at all – I confess, I'm glad to find such a good companion here.” He smiled warmly at her. “It's wonderful to find someone still holding the old traditions, especially here.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I try to hold old and new. For instance, I  _do_ appreciate the hot water system!”

He laughed kindly. “Oh, yes, of course that. But I was speaking more of the traditional...well, you know the scandal about the prince?”

There were about fifty scandals about every royal family that ever existed, and Aziraphale wondered why he was bringing up some kind of ancient history. Maybe it was only a generation or two back? She'd have to ask the Queen – that blessed woman, who Aziraphale was only a little bit still frightened of, knew every good story going back about seventeen generations. Having drinks with her and Crowley was the best night Aziraphale could imagine.

Well, all right. Second-best, but better not think of such things at the moment, it would be hours before she could get Crowley alone.

“Possibly,” she said airily. “Which one?”

“Raphael, of course.”

Aziraphale's blood actually ran cold. How  _dare_ he speak that name.

“I'm sorry,” she said icily. “I don't know of any royal with that name. Are you sure it was at Terra?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, mouth making a little moue of distaste. “I can't believe you haven't heard, but then I'm sure you're busy with the Library.”

“There is no one here by that name,” Aziraphale said sharply. “I know this castle, and all within it, well.” Fuck fuck fuck, where was Crowley? Was she far enough away not to overhear? _Fuck_.

“Honestly, you really don't know? It's the scandal of the century. He's right _there_ ,” the scholar said, gesturing, of course, towards Crowley who _of fucking course_ was about ten feet away and had heard the whole goddamn conversation. Aziraphale was going to light this man on fire. “He's wearing a _dress_.”

“That is the Princess Crowley,” Aziraphale said in a voice that had been trained into perfect calm, that carried to Crowley, and that promised retribution. “She is a princess of the realm.” Pause, deep breath. “And my beloved.”

She smiled when he choked on his wine. “And she looks _beautiful_ in her dress.” 

Aziraphale thought about adding that she'd designed it, given it to Crowley as a harvest-time gift, but decided that was rather over-egging the pudding, and anyway she was sweeping away, stalking towards Crowley.

Aziraphale raised her arms to cup her hands around the back of Crowley's head. Her dress had huge, dramatic sleeves and it felt like she was wrapping Crowley in her wings, keeping her safe.

“How much did you hear, love?” she murmured softly.

“All of it,” Crowley admitted. Her dark glasses hid her eyes, but Aziraphale was so close she could see Crowley blinking, see her gold irises, meet her eyes and pray Crowley saw the love writ in her own.

“I'm so sorry,” Aziraphale whispered, and pulled Crowley close for a moment. “Do you want to leave?”

Crowley shook her head. “No, angel, you shouldn't have...you've only made trouble for yourself. You shouldn't have.”

“I fucking well should,” Aziraphale whispered in her ear. “And I'm going to go one further. I love you, my darling girl. Do you want me to stay close to you?”

A very long pause, and a barely-breathed out 'yes'.

“Good. I like being close to you.” Aziraphale leaned back, and oh thank you God, Crowley was smiling. She was so impossibly strong, Aziraphale was blessed to just be able to watch her. “I just have to take care of one thing – step outside with me a moment, please?”

Crowley nodded, a little confused, but she took Aziraphale's hand and they slipped out a side door, and into a smaller parlour, where Aziraphale knew a guard with some rank would be heading up the evening's security detail.

“Princess, Maestra,” he said, bowing to them both from behind the desk. “Is all well?”

“Quite,” Aziraphale said. “Shaun, dear, the Maestro Scholar is barred from the Library. Could you please ensure he knows that?”

“ _What_?” Crowley squawked.

Shaun raised an eyebrow, but smiled at her, and she wondered if the maestro had done other things too, or if Shaun was simply that good he already knew about the mini-scene Aziraphale had made. Even odds, really.

Aziraphale also made a mental note to have a champagne tea with the Queen as soon as possible. Or a drink with Colin at the gatehouse? He knew everything too. Maybe both of them, honestly, she was curious to know who knew what, and when.

“Of course, Maestra,” Shaun said. “I'll make sure he's told. Would you object to a guardsman outside of the Library, until he leaves?”

Aziraphale considered this seriously. “Not right at the door,” she said thoughtfully. “But if someone were to have a seat nearby, in a particularly quiet part of the corridor, I shouldn't be opposed. Just in case there's any foolishness. I think there won't be, but can't hurt. I promise to run out with a cup of tea for the poor lad regularly.”

Shaun bowed, and promised it would be done. Crowley must have been turning an interesting number of colours, because he also noted that the small guardsroom across the corridor was empty that evening.

“Bless you, dear,” Aziraphale said and towed her Crowley there for a little privacy.

“Aziraphale!” she exploded, as soon as the door was firmly shut. “You can't-- what he's writing-- I'm not worth--”

At this last one, Aziraphale shot her a look that got her to  _actually_ stop talking mid-sentence.

“You are worth this and _more_ ,” she said firmly. “I am not running a public library here, Princess. I can ban whoever I want, for whatever reason I want. And he's proven himself unsuitable to be in _my_ presence, let alone yours. They are _my_ books. If he wants to come back in however many decades, after I've died and the library has passed to new hands, that's his business.”

Crowley took her glasses off, and pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Aziraphale, I can't let you throw away the scholarship, the  _prestige_ he'd bring to you.”

“You're not,” Aziraphale said simply. “There will be other scholars. Of that era, and others. Especially after I poach that collection of incunabula at auction next month,” she added smugly. “Beloved, it's not worth it. It's not worth it to let him go without consequence, for the things he said.” She shook her head. “Even if I hardly knew you, my actions would be the same. I promise. It hurts my heart, because I love you, but I'd be just as furious if it was that first week and I'd never even seen you before.”

Crowley made a choking noise, and Aziraphale gathered her close, tender, careful, letting Crowley choose where she wanted to be, and how much she wanted to be held.

“Will Auntie and Uncle be upset with you?” she finally asked.

“...don't take this the wrong way,” Aziraphale said after a moment. “But I'm not absolutely sure the King knows what a Maestro Scholar _is_.”

Crowley giggled, only a little wetly. “Books aren't really his thing.”

Aziraphale, who was quite fond of the king, simply smiled. “And you know the Queen is just as fierce as I am in protecting you. Besides, I've given her the best gossip of the season.”

Crowley rested her head on Aziraphale's shoulder. “Remember when we met, and you were afraid I'd beat you for touching a royal without permission?”

“Yes, darling, I'm a paragon of personal growth,” Aziraphale said dryly, more heartened when Crowley actually laughed out loud than she had been by anything else. “My dear girl. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Crowley murmured, and sighed, and hugged her. “Let's go back in? It's really too early to leave yet.”

“And I want more of those little stuffed mushroom things,” Aziraphale agreed. “Let me see you – oh, pretty thing that you are,” she praised, adjusting Crowley's collar to lie more nicely. She kissed Crowley, and took her hand, and so they plunged back into the room, carefully far from the scholar – and, to be honestly, carefully near the wine and food and their especial friends among the other guests.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Aziraphale_?”

Aziraphale stopped dead in her tracks, which meant Crowley did too.

“Good Lord, imagine running into you here!”

Considering these words were spoken by an absolutely stunning woman about their age, Crowley thought she could be forgiven for at first wondering if she was in the presence of one of Aziraphale's past lovers. And, frankly, getting rather excited for the reunion and  _extremely_ proud of her lady-love for snagging this absolute stunner. 

“Indeed,” Aziraphale said quietly, and Crowley revised her initial impression. Aziraphale was stock-still, head bowed, eyes on the ground. Not a past lover.

“We're here so she can assist with some research,” Crowley offered, refusing to give up a chance to brag. “The Maestro Librarian here _insisted_ she join the working group.” Also, it was an awfully nice chance for a holiday, to come to this pretty seaside kingdom. Crowley was not regretting tagging along in the least; she wasn't even the only partner here, and had already formed fast friendships with the others. They mostly bathed in the sea, got day-drunk, and dragged their partners out of the library at semi-regular intervals. Which was why they were in a quiet, cobble-lined side-street at the moment, just a few blocks from the great building that housed both the Library and guest quarters for everyone. Crowley _had_ been taking Aziraphale out to lunch.

“Oh. How interesting.” The woman, who Crowley was deciding she didn't much like, raised an eyebrow. “Well, you never did leave the Library at _our_ court, so I expect you're of some use here, too.”

Oh.  _Oh_ .

“No, Ixchel, I didn't stray far,” Aziraphale said quietly. “There was no need to.”

Ixchel looked her up and down. “Oh, but you're even still wearing the same old gowns! You haven't changed a  _bit_ , have you?”

“No, Ixchel, I suppose not.”

Crowley and Aziraphale had had their arms around each others' waists, and Crowley hugged her tighter, fingers squeezing, though always careful of her old scar. “ _Oh_ ,” she said, ugly-sweet. “You must be from Heaven's Court.”

“I am.” Ixchel straightened up even more, clearly very proud. “I am King Gabriel's second cousin. Who are _you_?”

Crowley deliberately didn't answer. “Getting on all right without this one, then?” she asked in that same ugly-sweet tone. “She has absolutely transformed Terra's Library, I can tell you. Her personal collection alone has made us the envy of half the universities.” Well, probably. What the fuck did this horrible girl know? And Aziraphale  _had_ transformed the Library, that part was definitely true!

Ixchel's mouth curled. “Wonderfully, actually. We have an excellent Maestro Librarian, who really  _understands_ the needs of the royal family.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Aziraphale all but whispered, her eyes rooted to the ground.

“He just _adores_ dancing,” Ixchel said. “Very good at it. You never were, were you? Especially during the rainy season?”

Oh,  _it was like that_ . Crowley let go of Aziraphale's waist and moved to stand in front of her, protecting her, possibly from the fact that she was going to strike Ixchel where she stood. “If that's the kind of thing that's important to you, you're welcome to him,” she spat. “Vain, self-serving, cruel court. You don't deserve her.”

Ixchel snorted. “Terra is supposed to be well-regarded. If you lot are fine with a secondhand Maestra, have at her. You'll only be disappointed, I'm afraid, she's not very good.”

Crowley hissed aloud. “Stop. Go away. Never speak to her again.”

“Says who?” Ixchel asked sweetly. “Oh, no. Oh, Aziraphale, have you made a _friend_? Good lord, what are you, a kitchenmaid?”

“A princess,” Crowley snapped, and had the distinct pleasure of Ixchel turning decidedly pale. There was something in ruling with fear; it meant you taught people to fear _everyone_. “I mean it. You're never to speak to her again. To _look_ at her. You haven't earned the _right_!” This last, her voice raising, and Ixchel took a step back.

Good Lord, she was a  _coward_ . A  _bully_ . She picked on the girl with the limp who was afraid and shy and fresh out of school, fresh out of  _nearly dying in a war_ , and thought she was hot shit. Crowley was, frankly, ashamed for all of them. The least the world could do was supply her with someone worth hating, but Ixchel wasn't even that.

“Oh, fuck off,” she said, already tired of it all. “By command of the Royal Princess of Terra, _do_ fuck off.”

Ixchel's mouth hung open. “She can't be  _that_ good in bed.”

Crowley's slap rang out, sharp and hard, and  _finally_ Ixchel turned tail and ran. Crowley immediately whipped around and gathered Aziraphale into her arms, stroking her hair, loving her as hard as she could.

Aziraphale was breathing hard, her lips pale, hazel eyes wide and afraid. Oh, Crowley should have slapped that trifling thing  _twice_ .

“Hey love,” she said, soft and tender, “let's get you home, all right? Just for a bit, give you a moment to gather yourself.”

Azirapale nodded, breaths still coming too fast, and Crowley walked them back the way they'd come, quickish but not frantic. Her love, her poor love, she deserved exactly  _none_ of this.

They arrived at a small back entrance just as Asha was leaving.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, swooping down, and Crowley thought, maybe, she might have been including both of them in that. 

“You know what to do for her?” she asked Crowley gently, and Crowley nodded. It wasn't Aziraphale's first panic attack, although thank God they weren't regular.

Asha nodded, and kissed  _Crowley_ on the cheek, which was both unexpected and...really nice, to be honest. She was kind of in need of a cuddle herself. “I'll leave you be, then,” she promised, and held the door for them, Aziraphale stumbling through, unseeing and weeping now.

Asha changed course to help them to their rooms, she and Crowley essentially carrying Aziraphale between them.

“I'll explain later,” Crowley said softly, caught her eye, and mouthed ' _Heaven's Court_ '.

Asha's lips thinned, and her arms tightened around Aziraphale's waist. “Right ho, darling girl,” she murmured. “Almost to safety, and your Crowley will love you up right. It's all right, Aziraphale. You're safe, I promise you're so safe.”

Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley was  _so proud_ of her, her brave girl still fighting. Asha helped her get Aziraphale into their rooms, settled on the sofa, and kissed her silver-gilt hair. “I love you. Crowley, if she's up for it, send for me tonight?”

“Promise. Let the others know we're out of commission until then?” Crowley asked, and they hugged quickly, and Asha gently closed the door behind her. Best not to overwhelm Aziraphale; too many people only made it worse.

“Hi, baby,” Crowley said softly, sitting beside her. She took Aziraphale's hand and put to her own chest, over her heart. “Feel my breathing?”

Aziraphale nodded. She was gasping now, a horrible noise, her lips nearly blue and her eyes wide, tears spilling down her face.

“All right, love,” Crowley said. “Breathe with me, nice and slow. That's the only thing you have to do. Feel my chest move, and breathe with that. In...out. In...out. Good girl, bravest girl in the world, you are. In. Out. Easy, gentle with yourself, darling. In. Out. In. Out. Oh, you're doing good.” Crowley trailed off, letting Aziraphale take her time, get into the rhythm of breath. Watched her lips go pink again, oxygen getting to her system. Watched her eyes relax, her pupils return to normal. She still wept a little, but she was back, breathing regularly, the tells of the panic attack gone.

“Oh, my angel,” Crowley murmured, and held out her arms, and Aziraphale fell into them. “My poor girl. I'm _so_ sorry. I shouldn't have let her speak to you.”

“S'okay,” Aziraphale mumbled, and shook a little, her tears wet on Crowley's neck. “I shouldn't...should've been stronger.”

“Fuck that,” Crowley said. “You're perfect, love, you hear me? Perfect. You aren't weak at all. She said the most horrible things to you. Brought it all back, didn't it?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“My poor girl. Of course you're afraid. You learned to be afraid to survive.” Crowley stroked her hair, laying them both back, glad this was a good-sized sofa that let them cuddle. “I'm so, so sorry you had to hear those things. It's okay. She'll never hurt you again, I promise.”

Aziraphale nodded, and cried herself out on Crowley's shoulder. “I'm sorry,” she sniffled again. “I'm sorry, it's been  _years_ since I was there...”

“And it was years of them abusing you,” Crowley murmured. “These things don't heal overnight, angel-girl, you know that.”

“Yeah,” Aziraphale said in a thick, tear-choked voice. “But I don't have to _like_ it, demoness.”

Crowley laughed, and hugged her so tight she squeaked. “I love you  _so much_ , you don't even know,” she whispered. “I'm so proud of you. Shh, now, stay here as long as you want. You need to feel safe again, angel.”

Aziraphale snugged herself close. “Crowley? Was Asha here?”

“Mmmhmm. She loves you, by the way. She'll check in on us later, okay?”

Aziraphale smiled; Crowley could feel it against the bare skin of her chest, and it felt so nice.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked softly, when they'd rested together a little bit, and Aziraphale's breathing was deep and easy, and even her tears had dried up. “Water?” A little tickle at the nape of her neck. “A kiss?”

Aziraphale giggled softly. “Both, please.” She sighed. “And then a nap. I'm sorry, love, we were going to have fun this afternoon, but I'm...I don't feel good.”

“There will be other afternoons,” Crowley said firmly. “The only important thing is that you feel safe, and know you're loved. Go get into bed, sweetheart, and I'll bring you some water.” Their bedroom was wonderfully light and sunny, and the open windows let in the sea breeze and the cry of the gulls and honestly Aziraphale needed to be invited on more research trips, this was the _life_. Crowley was going to be a professional Maestra Librarian's partner, it was the actual best. 

She informed Aziraphale of all of this when she brought in a glass of water (delivered with the promised kiss), and was rewarded with a soft smile.

“Silly demon,” Aziraphale said, and sipped the water, and made a face. “Oh, my belly isn't happy.”

“Leave it 'til after your nap then,” Crowley said, helping her under the light cotton covers. “I'll be at my weaving, all right? Just over there, keeping an eye on you.” She'd brought her smallest loom, just a little something to work on in the odd hours when she wasn't with the other partners, or with Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled, and rolled over, curling her hands around one of Crowley's, kissing her knuckles. “I love you. Have I mentioned that lately?”

“A few times.” Crowley kissed the top of her head. “Shh, now. You always feel better after a nap.”

“Crowley?” Aziraphale said sleepily, eyes already shut. “Did you really slap Ixchel for what she said to me? Or am I imagining things?”

Crowley's palm still stung a bit. “I did, beloved. Ought to have hit her harder, honestly,” she said. “What a cowardly bully.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Thank you. No one's ever defended me like that before.”

“Well, now you have _me_ ,” Crowley said. “Hush, baby, go to sleep. Everything's all right.”

Aziraphale's smile grew, and she snuggled under the covers, and drifted off while Crowley watched her, all but mantling like a hawk until she knew Aziraphale was safe in dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


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